You Belong to Me
by krissyg927
Summary: On the run from her husband Remy spends the worst twelve hours of her life. Beware, this is A Red Canyon Fiction so all the warnings apply. It's Mac being Mac so yeah. Very mature content.
1. Dead End Justice

Long hot summers make you wanna fight  
The roar of the city lasts all night  
You like drugs you like brew  
You won't believe what I can do to you.  
Dead End Justice by The Runaways.

Remy was making a new start, with the black eye, not her first, still fresh on her face and her arm in a sling, she drove towards her friend Sylvia's house, the only person she could turn to. She had burned all her bridges long ago for love, and now she was well and truly fucked.

Billy had turned out to be the biggest disappointment of her life, and now her parents wouldn't speak to her. She couldn't blame them really, and they had tried to warn her, but the heart wants what the heart wants and she was left in a strange town, with no job, miles away from anyone that loved her. She had followed that jerk off all the way to Oregon, and although she did like it there, he was there and so, she couldn't be. He had sworn she was his and his only, he would never give her a divorce, and he would never leave her alone.

Her parents and sister were in South Carolina, had been for years, since they left that shit town in Utah fifteen or so years ago. They didn't pick up the phone when she called, but she had been expecting that. She and Jenny talked on "Fakebook" as Jenny called it sometimes, but never for very long. Jenny was sixteen and her older sister by almost ten years was light years away from her world, although they thought about each other often. She missed her baby sister sometimes, and dreamed of a day when they could see each other again, her parents though, her mother especially? No thank you very much.

So, as distasteful as it was to her, she was on her way to Utah. There was nowhere else to go.

Remy had no choice, her pride would not allow her to beg, she had left home to follow a man and she didn't even want to tell them that they had been right. As she drove with her left hand and tried to light a cigarette with her bum hand; he had sprained her right wrist, she wished that she hadn't left herself with no options.

Story of her life.

There was no service out in the desert for her XM radio, so the local station, which had a propensity for Pasty Kline, Elvis, and The Duprees was all she could tune in. She imagined these yahoos out here thought Elvis was still alive somewhere, maybe with Patsy Kline, tooling around in his Cadillac somewhere down route 66, and she laughed to herself, for the first time in a while.

Aliens and area 51 was probably popular around here too and she laughed again bitterly, "those lights in the sky, they be UFOs." At least she still had her sense of humor.

On her birthday, Billy had hit her for the last time, and she had left. Remy was free of him, he didn't even know about Utah, and she would be safe there, or safer at least, but hearing all this moody music was not helping the situation at all. She had already heard "Crazy" and now "You Belong to Me", it was making her mood foul, remembering a time when she was young and life was simpler than it had become. What she wouldn't give for some rock and roll, some Five Finger Death Punch would be really good about now. But, alas, the CDs were in her trunk, and she wasn't stopping in the middle of this barren place in the dark, leaving herself vulnerable to some nitwit coming and snatching her right off the road. So, Elvis, it was, Patsy Kline and the rest.

This was her mother's music and Beverly Wallace had no use for Remy's music, Megadeth, Disturbed, and all manner of heavy metal. Beverly had been convinced she would corrupt her sister with her "Drug Music," Remy had always laughed at that and turned the music up. She didn't do half the things her mother always accused her of, a little pot, here and there sure. She liked to go to concerts, what was ever wrong with that? She didn't sleep around, although Beverly regularly searched her room for birth control pills, never finding the joints Remy taped to the back of her pictures on the wall.

She was clever when she had to be, that was how she finally got away from Billy too.

Billy had been her first, her only, but Bev thought she was whoring around and regularly interrogated her about it.

It was ironic that she was out in the middle of east Jabib, thousands of miles away and still couldn't get away from her mother, she was thinking of her now, it was the damn music. Remy was finding out, that her mother's judgment and reproach traveled with her wherever she went. What was the saying ? Something like "wherever you go there you are."

"Remy I just don't know what to do with you." Her mother's words echoed through her mind, "The music and...the men..."

And the tattoos Remy smiled to herself, don't forget those mother dear. Beverly was not a mother one could call when they were in a jam. Nope. You were on your own. Lie in the bed you made Remy. Lie in it until it kills you.

'See the pyramids along the Nile  
Watch the sunrise from a tropic isle  
Just remember darling all the while  
You belong to me."

Fuck her life right now.

That was why she ran off and married Billy in the first place, to get away, to get anywhere that was far from her mother. And that had not worked out for her at all, she was done with men, fuck every one of them, or don't actually, and she laughed again at her own joke.

Sylvia had offered to let her crash for a while, but Remy had no intention of staying in Bumfuck, Utah for long. Sylvia never left Luna Mesa, but Remy had, and she would leave again as soon as she could. To go where she didn't know, just away, the place gave her the creeps and she didn't know how Sylvia could stand it.


	2. Wrong Side of Heaven

I'm posting this now because I have a fourteen-hour shift at work today so when I get home tonight, I'm gonna drop. Let me know what you think :)

I saw the devil today and he looked a lot like me.

Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch

Mac watched the new girl in town with interest for a few weeks, her name was Remy, and he vaguely remembered her from grammar school.

Her parents had moved away long ago and took her before he'd had a chance to notice her then. Now, he noticed her, did he ever, in spades. He had a thing for short brunettes and he'd hit on her a few times but she had not taken the bait.

Soon the sling was gone and she had full use of her arm again, but the shiner stuck around longer. Still, she was not giving him the time of day. He knew he could have any woman in the place, but that wasn't the point. He wanted what he wanted. Period.

After a while, they realized they knew each other when they were ten or eleven, but that still didn't get his foot in the door, or him between her legs. They had talked some, but it was clear to him she wasn't interested. Sylvia said her man beat the shit out of her, Mac thought Remy probably had it coming but didn't say that out loud. They usually had it coming, he knew that from experience with the fairer sex.

Sylvia was a barfly, and sometimes Remy came out with her, but not always. She kept to herself even when she was out, and the vibes coming off of her were clear as day, don't touch me, don't talk to me.

But he would, he would touch her, eventually, because he wanted her, and he never denied himself something he wanted. Whether it was drugs or a woman, he always got what he wanted, either with his dark charm and looks, or else he took it.

For a woman alone in the world, she had a smart mouth, and Remy had cut him off at the knees at every turn. He had even bought her a shot of Remy Martin, as a play on her name, a joke to get her to laugh and spread her legs.

She had just shaken her head, said "Really, Mac?" blew him off and continued talking to some whore from town. He would make her regret that because he knew where she was living, and he knew her roommate, he'd fucked her a few times too. Sylvia worked nights and Remy would be home all alone every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night from 7 PM to 7 AM, while Sylvia wiped ass as the local nursing home for minimum wage to finance a certain habit she had.

/

The pool was shadowed in light and he could see her clearly, there was a light mist coming from the water in the twilight and it was almost...sexy. Mac lit a cigarette as he watched her, inhaled deeply and stroked his hand over his already sizable erection, tonight was the night.

The wait was over, he'd given her enough chances and time to come across and she didn't, so now it was on to plan B. Truthfully, he liked plan B sometimes, most times. There was a thrill in the hunt, and in the fight, and he was a man who lived for thrills. Plan B required thought and planning; it was always a challenge, and Mac loved a challenge.

Clearly, Remy didn't know what things were like out here in the desert, that much was obvious, and Sylvia, like the good whoring bitch that she was had not told her. Being outside, way out here, away from town after dark alone was asking for trouble, and trouble had come to call tonight.

He watched her dipping her feet in the pool for over an hour and licked his lips as he placed the mask over his face, this was going to make his year. Although his dick had been raging hard since he first saw her weeks ago, Remy wouldn't give him the time of day and he had even tried to charm her, to no avail. So now he was going to take what he wanted from her, and leave her used up and shattered. She had asked for it, it didn't have to go down this way, but now it was.

There couldn't be any way for her to recognize him, or he'd have to kill her, not that it wouldn't be fine; one less fucking bitch in the world. Most times that was how it went down if it wasn't one of the local whores spreading their legs for him, like Sylvia. But that got boring, he thought to himself as he watched Remy. She still had the remains of a healing black eye; obviously, she could take a punch, but maybe it wouldn't come to that this time, although he doubted that, she looked like a scrapper.

Maybe she wasn't going down without a fight and he laughed to himself, but she would go down. He ran his hand over the front of his jeans, harder this time, she would do whatever he wanted, but there was going to be a fight. And he was going to fuck her good.

Mac was never adverse to a good fight and he actually liked when they fought back, there was something about overpowering them he liked. Something about being scratched, even better if they drew his blood, and a good fight was what he needed tonight. The weeks of her practically ignoring him was festering inside of him, like a disease, a fuse, waiting to explode. It was lust, so familiar; his favorite sin. She was going to get the brunt of all his sexual frustration that night, in abundance.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. Xxxx


	3. Hot in the City

Stranger, stranger, stranger, stranger  
It's hot here at night, lonely, black and quiet  
On a hot summer night  
Don't be afraid of the world we made  
On a hot summer night  
Hot in the City by Billy Idol

The local radio station played from somewhere inside the house, old music, like what his Mom listened to, some old shit that he remembered hearing as a kid. He could tell by Remy's face that she didn't like the music, soon that would be the least of her problems tonight.

He was going to be a big problem for her tonight.

She looked damn good tonight too, good enough to eat, and he licked his lips again. Mac loved girls with dark hair best and she had a slamming body on her too. He had known that already, Sylvia had lent her some clothes, obviously, because everything he had seen her wearing was just a wee bit tight. Remy was curvy in all the right ways, not a skinny crack whore like Sylvia.

The other night at the bar, he had approached Remy and slid his hands down over her ass, squeezed nice and pulled her against his dick; he was a little drunk, he'd cop to that, but she made it crystal clear that it was never happening.

Oh yes, it was.

Slowly he approached her, his footsteps light on the ground, she had no idea he was even there. He stood behind her, watching; Remy dipped her hand into the pool and watched the ripples, unaware that there was something evil behind her.

That was one of the best parts for him, stalking his prey when they didn't know he was there, but not the best part. Maybe he should fuck her in the pool first...

He watched her a while, she smoked a cigarette and drank a glass of wine unbeknownst that he was there and that excited him more than the black bikini she was wearing.

"Cause when a long-legged lovely walks by  
Yeah, you can see the look in her eye."

When he couldn't stand it anymore and nearly came in his pants rubbing one out, Mac was on her in a second and wrapped his hands around her neck from behind. He pulled her to her feet, her heels scraped against the concrete, and she screamed in pain. Quickly he clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her against him from behind, with one arm around her neck and mouth and the other pressed against her stomach as his fingers reached into her bikini bottom, "Don't you fuckin move Remy," He hissed, she felt his cock digging into her ass through his jeans and she knew two things with absolute certainty, he was going to rape her and he knew her.

"And you know that its hot in the city, hot in the city tonight."

/

With no other way to defend herself, Remy stomped on his foot as hard as she could, but he didn't let go, just went off balance and they both fell into the water. As she struggled to get to the top, he grabbed her feet and pulled her back underwater and held her there. Her lungs filled with water and panic set in as she struggled to get air, she could see the sky above her, so near, but she couldn't get to the surface.

She kicked at his face and swam to the top, letting out a strangled gasp as the air hit her lungs and she coughed out the water. Mac was up out of the water with a splash and a fist to her stomach. Remy doubled over and he took her around the waist.

"I didn't escape from my douche bag husband to get taken down by you, asshole." She yelled and swung her arms wildly in the water but he just dunked her head under again. She was making him hard already.

Mac was so much stronger than her five foot four 125 pound self. Remy fought and pulled at the mask he wore, but it was no use. Sylvia said there were some pricks out in the dessert cooking Meth and she figured this was one of them. Who else would have a full face mask but some drug-crazed freak?

She gasped for air as he dunked her head underwater over and over again; and when he pulled her back up, he clocked her in the eye that didn't have the shiner. Remy was lightheaded and dizzy now, and the stars in the sky above her started spinning; she fought to stay alert, she didn't want to be taken out this way.

She had to stay alert...

From somewhere, she didn't know where, his back pocket maybe, he took out a zip tie and tied her hands over her head, and now she knew; god damn she was in deep shit. The plastic bit into her skin roughly and drew blood; she was in deep shit.

"Just call me the boy scout, always prepared," Mac mumbled as he pulled her up into his arms and she struggled more but then she saw the knife in his hand, and swiftly it was against her throat.

"If you try anything I'll drop you like a sack of shit, and hold you underwater until you drown," He sneered and shoved her face underwater again, held it there as her arms flailed, now tied and useless: then pulled her back up to face him, "Do you doubt me?"

She gasped for air when he pulled her back up to the surface by the hair, then he pushed her face under again. Remy couldn't get her footing, the pool wasn't too deep, but he had the upper hand. Finally he pulled her up and she was able to get a few breaths.

"Do you doubt me?" He growled.

Remy just shook her head, "I don't, I don't," She whispered, and then almost said, "And I know it's you Mac." But thought better of it.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. Xxxx


	4. Closer

Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I got no soul to sell.  
Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself.  
Closer by Nine Inch Nails

Once he got her up and out of the pool, he took her inside and right into the bathroom. As he pushed her down the hall Remy thought to herself, he's been here before, more than once.

He walked around as if he owned the place and that terrified her somehow and she didn't know why. He took her through the kitchen and down the hallway by the hair, and he knew where the bathroom was, she didn't want to think about what that meant.

"Glad you're seeing things my way Remy," He cackled to himself, "It'll be so much easier for you."

Somehow she didn't believe that bullshit for a second, even if she fought him the way she intended to, or if she didn't, this was never going to be easier for her.

Mac stopped and shucked off his wet pants, once they were in the bathroom then led her inside to the shower and turned it on, "I like water, I was gonna fuck you in the pool but you fucked that all up," He badgered her as he cut her bikini top and bottoms off with his knife and adjusted the water. He liked his showers hot, and there was steam almost immediately.

He'd taken his shirt off along the way to the bathroom and shucked off his boots, but now her eyes were drawn to his body, having seen his broad chest and strong arms and his big dirty hands, that had beaten her ass already; settled on his huge dick.

Fuck.

The look on her face was laughable to him, he grinned, turned her around by the hair and pushed her against the tiles. She felt his body pinning her there, the was heat radiating from him and on to her, there was a blaze flickering, about to ignite inside of her that she was powerless to resist. His face was right next to her ear and she could feel his breath on her skin. Goosebumps erupted behind her neck and traveled down her spine; more deep shit.

For convenience, Mac had pulled the mask aside, he was behind her, pressed against her hard and she couldn't see the small part of his face that was visible. The better to eat you with my dear, and then he set to plunder her skin with his mouth. He inhaled her scent, deeply and groaned in her ear, touched his lips to her skin, her ear. Remy shivered as he ran his hands over her body, she didn't want to, but she did.

First he licked her neck, long and hard, and she felt herself start to burn anew after Mac ran his teeth along the curve of her neck and bit hard, "Oh, it's gonna hurt sweetheart, but you're gonna like it," He reached down between her legs and grinned, she was wet for him already and when she felt his fingers brush over her thigh she moaned, " You're gonna beg for more."

He ran his hand up over her chest and took her left breast in his hand swiping his fingers over her nipple with skill and she moaned again, "Don't," She pleaded through gritted teeth, no begging. No begging her parents and no begging this mother fucker either, and he laughed again. They always said no, until they didn't.

"Whatsamatter Remy," He pulled her up against him hard, running his fingers over her breast again, this time rougher," You want it, I know you do," He slid his other fingers through her wetness and found the spot, the only spot a woman really cared about being touched in, "Feel that," He groaned into her ear as his fingers rubbed frantically, "That don't lie."

"Fuck you!" She cried out, even as her body shook from tremors from this perverts hand and she tried to back up. He was solid behind her, taller than her by a foot or more, she wasn't going anywhere.

It was like he knew her, the way he touched her, and she was terrified of herself, of how it felt, and what that meant. While his rough hands, ran circles all over her pussy, Remy continued to fight him, but he had her pinned against the shower wall. Still, she moved as much as she could, to make it difficult for him. Remy was determined to fight even if there was some kind of thrill she was feeling, she was not going to make this easy for him, that wasn't what Remy did, ever. Everything was a battle, and this would be the same.

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, I intend to," He growled, and licked the side of her neck again, sucked and bit her skin, never letting up his fingers assault on her pussy for an instant, "First you're gonna cum like a good girl, then I'm gonna fuck you all night long," He stopped and sucked hard on her neck leaving marks on her with the promise of more to come, "Until you can't stand up, fuck your brains out."

Without hesitation he shoved two fingers inside of her, still working her clit with his thumb, and she was good and shaky now. A few more minutes and she was covered in sweat and steam from the shower, they both were, and she was about to break. He couldn't wait for that, not just to hear her scream, but she'd be tighter then, after. It was some kind of female enigma he had read about once in an old Penthouse magazine and in his experience it was true.

"Come on baby," He whispered and growled hotly into her ear, like a lover, "Let it go, you want to, you know you want to, feels so good doesn't it?" He upped the ante with his thumb and she was crashing and burning, "Scream bitch," He commanded, "Scream," He pulled her against him, she could feel his cock against her back, and Mac yanked her hair back for emphasis, "Scream."

Remy cried out as he commanded like a blithering idiot, screaming for God and help as wave after wave crashed over her, and she came hard, like he wanted. Silent tears ran down her face, but she'd had no time to process the fact that she wasn't crying because of her situation, something had just happened to her; his lips were on her neck.

God his lips, his mouth, all over her, licking and sucking hard, and it felt so good...made her dizzy and weak. He smiled against her skin and she could feel it, could feel his lips curve and grin when it was over. She wanted to kill him, she wanted to kill him with his own knife for making her feel this. She would.

He pulled her back against him, in a hug that any other time in her life she would have eaten up with a spoon, but being in his arms as she trembled in aftershocks was distressing, and the tears.

"Good girl," Mac moaned, running his hands over her stomach and breasts slowly, almost gently. Then he changed on a dime; kicked her legs apart in one swift move, bent her over like a rag doll and then he was inside her.

Fuck.

Mac thought to himself that he was always goddam right, about everything, she was so tight, if you make her cum first she'll fit you like a glove the article had said and every time was like the first time. There was no way he was telling any of those assholes he knew about that; Fuck them and fuck yes! It was worth the effort and fucking fun to make it happen when they didn't want it to. Making someone get off when they weren't into it made him feel potent and powerful, made his dick like granite, so when he finally got inside he was a fuckin rock star.

Fuck.

Remy was already a mess, and she was losing her mind, he was behind her, all around her, she was filled up with him. His hands on her made her skin tingle, in bad ways and good. It was too much for her, all of it; him. Mac shifted his stance and shoved her face against the tiles, her estimation of his size increased, greatly, and now it was all she could think about; that long, fat cock moving in and out of her – oh, god – she gasped loudly, trailing into a moan when one hand came up to clamp over her mouth and the other remained between her legs.

"That's a good girl," He moaned, "Goddammit, fuck yes, fuck, fuck yes baby," He screamed, "You're making me love you," He screamed and spilled every drop of himself inside of her with a loud roar. A terrifying roar to her, like he was an animal, and maybe he really was.

Immediately he turned her around and yanked her up and off her feet, then higher, letting her feet dangle against the tiles as if she weighed nothing at all. Her hands were still tied, and she was slumped to the side almost exhausted, unable to get her footing as he held her there. Her feet kicked out, trying to get balanced, and then she closed her eyes. Remy didn't want to look at him, but his face and the mask was there behind her eyes anyway.

" Wake up baby, no tapping out. I'm almost ready for round two, you'll need some stamina tonight; we're gonna have some fun you and me," He let her down onto her feet and her knees buckled; she let her hair cover her face, her favorite way to hide from the world.

Mac took her face in his fingers and squeezed her cheeks in one strong hand, forcing her to look at him, pushing her hair out of the way.

"I'm not kidding Remy, the night is young."

She looked into his eyes, "Take off the mask," She challenged, and refused to look away from him now, "Let me see who you are."

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. Xxxx


	5. You Belong to Me

**_Remy goes down the rabbit hole._**

You belong to me  
Fly the ocean in a silver plane  
See the jungle when it's wet with rain  
Just remember till you're home again  
You belong to me.  
You Belong to Me by The Duprees

She was as good of a fuck as Mac thought she would be, better maybe; none of the begging and crying, not Remy and she had cum easy. She was just the way he'd expected and he suspected she would give as good as she got, and now she was going to get it all night long: and so would he. He had untied her hands because he wanted what she had to give, that was part of it for him.

There was a fire inside of her, he could see it in her eyes; it burned bright and white hot, she had no fear it seemed. He loved that and recalled how he had seen that in her the first time he saw her, the fire burning under the surface. He had that same fire, the fire of a person who's been fucked over by life, but still standing, the fire of determination.

Remy had shown that determination almost immediately because she'd kicked him hard in the bathroom, and tried to run, but he caught her by the hair and slammed her against the bedroom wall. Remy saw stars, she slid halfway down almost in a heap and he pulled her back up by the long t-shirt she now wore and held her against the wall.

He had put pants on in the bathroom, white wife beater too, from where she didn't even know or want to; her brain was trying to tell her something, but she didn't want to see it. He had clothes that fit him here and they were dry, although he didn't bother to button his pants, that was useless work. She looked up at him with unfocused eyes, she was spinning and her head hurt.

He dropped her to her feet and pulled her by the t-shirt until she was against him.

"Let's go, Remy, I ain't done with you yet, just cause I let ya put on a t-shirt."

Mac lifted her up against the wall, pulled his cock out and slammed into her again, her head hit the wall as he impaled her and dug his fingers into her hips to hold her in place. "First here and then in your bed."  
Remy screamed this time in burning pain, both from his hands and his dick; this time it hurt and she slapped at his head desperately trying to get the mask off, but it was no use; he just moaned in her ear like he was about to blow his load. Like it turned him on.

"Keep it up baby I love it," He groaned, digging his fingers into her skin deeper and ran his tongue over her ear; it gave her chills all over her body, he was hurting her but as he ran his tongue over her neck, she hung her head in shame; she liked it. She liked when he sucked his way down to her collarbone and left a deep painful mark there and she liked what he'd done to her in the shower.

"Oh, god, oh god," Remy moaned as her eyes rolled back in her head, then she moaned again, deeper in her throat, in pain? Or something else? He had known this was her room, had he been watching her? "Oh god."

She reached up and sunk her nails into his chest and it did nothing but spur him on harder, faster; like her heartbeat in her ears, pounding with no relief.

Mac groaned as he fucked her hard against the wall and felt her nails clawing at his skin, finally, finally she was drawing blood. The moment he had been waiting for, the fight, the blood, he needed it like air to breathe. Before the night was over there was going to be lots of blood, his and hers, he couldn't wait for that calm that always fell over him, after.

"This is how a man does it," He growled at her and bit at her neck almost breaking the skin there, then again and again until she was bleeding, only stopping to watch himself moving in and out of her sweet pussy.

After a few more minutes he threw her on the bed, her bed, and that horrible music still played from the kitchen as he stood before her. It was "You Belong to Me" again, Remy's breath was hitching in her chest and she scooted away, but his hand clamped over her ankle and he pulled her back to the edge.

"Come here, baby," He grinned then climbed on top of her. The words to that infuriating song ran through her mind as she fought him and Mac didn't seem phased at all when she scratched at his neck and tried to hit him, he just pulled her legs up to where he wanted them.

'I'd be so alone without you  
Maybe you'd be lonesome too and blue." He sang under that hideous mask as he yanked her legs apart and then he was inside of her again,"You belonggggggg to meeee."

/

"Take this," He handed the white pill to her that he had pulled out of the front pocket of his pants as he laid on top of her on the bed. He was between her legs and the weight of him on top of her was crushing her down into the bed.

"I don't do pills," She snapped, but he shoved it halfway down her throat and made her drink a bottle of water before he let go of her hair.

"It', ecstasy, you'll like it." He continued, "Gotta drink lots of water now," He said as he washed his own pill down, "You never did it before?"

She shook her head.

"No drugs at all?"

"Pot," And he laughed at that as if she was such an amateur.

"Oh sweetheart, buckle up, it's gonna be a wild ride." He grinned to himself and chugged the rest of the water.

/

"I know your voice," She whispered in the kitchen later as they sat opposite each other, while he drank water bottles one after the other and made her do it too, she knew why. He'd taken it too as if it was nothing. It made her talk, and that's what he wanted, and other things.

She spoke those words even as every cell in her body screamed don't do it, don't do this! Remy never could shut her mouth if she had something to say, even when she was a kid, no don't say it!

Yes, I will, because I can't stop myself. No!

"I know who you are, I've already seen half your face," Too late.

She took some beatings from other kids because of her mouth and dealt out her share to them as well, but always if she had just not mouthed off...It was a blessing and a curse. Mac made no move to oblige her, and that angered her.

"Take off that mask if you're such a real man face me like a man does," She hissed; Billy had always told her that her smart mouth was why she always got hit, but Mac didn't hit her, in fact, he laughed long, loud and hard, and then he took off the mask and tossed it by the back door.

"Better?" Now you have to die, "Are you happy now?"

"Yes, I want to see your eyes when I kill you." She hissed.

He laughed again, "That's not gonna happen," His eyes traveled over the counter where Sylvia, at her best in the housekeeping department had left an ice pick standing straight up, erect if you will, in the ice bucket. "Sylvia is a shitty housekeeper, always was."

Remy steeled her eyes on his, then to the ice pick, he had been here before, she was right, "I'm going to kill you, Mac."

"I ain't turning my back on you, so you can forget the idea you got to shove that ice pick through my skull."

"Afraid of an Ice Pick Lobotomy Mac?"

"Wasn't that some hair band in the eighties?"

"I'll kill you for this," She growled, and then he had enough of her yapping, in one swift move he had her by the hair and slammed her body sideways onto the table. Remy was momentarily stunned but swung her hands at him successfully clocking him on the side of the face. He was caught off guard and for a minute he couldn't shake it off, but then he was back; threw her up on the butcher block table and held her hands over her head, coming closer with his eyes to hers and snarling.

"I love a good fight, and I knew you'd be good," He groaned as he wiped the blood from his split lip with his fingers and sucked it off each one obscenely, never taking his eyes from hers. Then he dipped his fingers once again and brought them to her lips, rubbing blood over her full, pretty lips.

"Open your Goddamn mouth, Remy!" His hand came across her face with a crack, making her dizzy again, but not too dizzy to kick out at him. He pressed his bloody fingers against her lips, pried them open and shoved his fingers deep into her mouth.

"Now suck," He commanded, moving his fingers in and out of her mouth, "Good girl."

She was bleeding from her cheek, and he slid his lips over the wound, licking the salty metallic liquid from her face. He was hard again, she could feel his cock digging into the side of her thigh. Something stirred inside of her, something that disgusted her.

Then his lips were on hers, and he pushed his tongue into her mouth, Mac was a dirty kisser and fire spilled all through her body, then roared. She'd never been kissed like that, like he was eating her alive and she could taste it, her blood, his blood, their blood and she was so aroused by him.

"Gonna make you cum again," He groaned against her cheek.

"Fuck you," She yelled back, "I was faking to get you off of me."

"Right," He cocked an eyebrow at her and he was almost handsome when he did that; she noticed he had blue eyes, they were...hypnotic. Remy knew she needed to get a fucking grip, and soon, but she couldn't manage it, she was feeling the drug now.

She didn't feel it when he cut her leg, her cortisol levels, endorphins and serotonin must have been sky high from the stress and the drug he'd given her. She didn't feel the pain that surely should have come, not until the blood flowed over her inner thigh, hot and sticky, warm. Mac made more cuts then and she could feel him licking and sucking the blood as it dripped down her leg.

When she felt his hands on her inner thighs spreading her legs, she gasped, -oh god not again- she was getting too weak to kick in protest. Her body was sore and raw from the previous assaults, how many times now? She couldn't remember, just that she was hurting, not that she thought he gave a shit about that at all. So she gritted her teeth to get through it again, weaker this time, but not dead yet.

Instead of the sting and burn of his cock, she felt his tongue,-Oh Jesus Christ almighty- sliding along the seam of her lips then inside her, as he opened his mouth wide. -Fuck- She hadn't anticipated that and as she felt his fingers come into the mix, covered in her blood surely, she wanted to be horrified but she couldn't.

Mac fucked her pussy with his tongue, thoroughly licked and sucked in all the right ways and Remy reached around the table for something to grip, anything, holy fucking shit what he was doing to her! Her hands settled on the shirt she wore and she bunched it up in her fists.

He slid his fingers in and out of her, almost gently, and ran his tongue over her sensitive flesh, like a lover would. It was heaven and hell, all rolled up into one and when she came tears rolled down her cheeks while she pounded on his back with her fists repeating the same words, "I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you," And he had smiled at her, the devil's smile.

Her body responded the way it was wired to do, she knew that intellectually, but oh he knew what he was doing. He spread her legs wider and licked her with the flat of his tongue then settled where she needed it, wanted it. She came again and there were more tears, so hard, and she was out of breath. Those were not sad tears, it was something she had heard about before that happened sometimes and he had done it to her.

It was the X, she told herself, just the X making her this way. It was so good.

She shook her head to be free of those thoughts, then sat up, pushed on his shoulders and punched him in the face.

His hands were around her neck in a flash and he shoved her back on the table, bringing his face close to hers, "That's no way to say thank you, Remy."

In her addled mind she wondered briefly why this guy had to rape to get what he wanted, he ate pussy like it was his job and as far as Remy knew that was a plus on any man's dance card. But the truth was, and he had told her, he liked the fight. He liked taking what he wanted, that was what thrilled him most of all.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. Xxxx


	6. Into the Void

Talking to myself all the way to the station  
pictures in my head of the final destination all lined up, all lined up  
(all the ones that aren't allowed to stay)  
tried to save myself but myself keeps slipping away  
…...The Void by Nine Inch Nails

The euphoria she felt from the X was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. He was inside her again, with his hands on her back pulling her up off the table and bringing his lips to her nipples one after the other until she was floating, weightless, so good. He took her to the moon and back and she'd followed willingly, feeling every sensation tenfold, intense and earth-shattering, screaming out loud to his delight.

"Oh fuck yes, Remy that's it," He groaned, "Fuck yes, cum on me, I can feel you."

His eyes glazed over and she watched his body shudder above her in a release after hers that seemed to last forever. He gave her more, half a pill each and made sure she drank the water, he didn't want her gone until he wanted her gone.

/

"You got pretty eyes, I love green eyes." Mac said, and she didn't answer, the chair she was sitting on was hard, and sitting hurt. She was soaked in sweat, smeared with blood, and so was he, it was almost quiet, except the ticking clock on the wall, and his voice. He'd told her it was intermission before the main event, whatever that was. He sat close to her, to keep her from running, to smell her, he ran his nose over her neck, back and forth and inhaled deeply, kissed her there.

"In a gadda de vida baby don't you know that I'm lovin you," he purred against her neck, "How ya feelin now?"

It was dark, with just a little light coming from the living room, it was almost romantic if it wasn't so fucked up she thought to herself. There was some wack 60's music on the radio, what they called acid rock playing low. "Oh, won't you come with me and take my hand." She shook her head but she was high and he knew it.

"It's alright," He ran his fingers through her hair, "I know you'ree feelin fine," He pushed her hair out of her face, "I got more, you need another hit?"

Remy shook her head, she was high enough and if he was giving her a choice she didn't want anymore.

"Drink your water," He reminded her, drank from the bottle and handed it to her.

She drank, she knew enough about ecstasy that she had to drink water, or her brain would fry.

"You dye your hair black, what color is it really?" Did he notice everything?

"Red." She answered, of course, he thought to himself, red like fire.

"Why?"

"Why what?" She hissed.

"Why dye it? To be someone you're not?" He asked, "That don't work Remy, no matter where you go, there you are."

She didn't answer him, but it did not go unnoticed by her that he had said exactly what she felt sometimes. Remy remained silent and just stared straight ahead, forming a plan in her head before it was too late. Before he got under her skin before he got under her skin more.

"Wanna play fuck, marry, kill?" He joked, and she didn't answer or move, "Ok, just fuck?"

The ice pick, she had to get it somehow.

"Answer me," He screamed, and his eyes were dark, she knew now why he felt so at home in Sylvia's house, she fucked him for drugs, Remy had suspected Sylvia was using, even though she tried to hide it. He fucked her enough that he had clothes here, and that made her anger fire up anew.

"No!" She screamed back and he seemed satisfied to get a reaction from her, for now.

"Do you know when I decided to fuck you." Mac continued as they sat opposite from each other in the small kitchen, she had been eying the ice pick on the counter behind him again and he knew it. Remy was a fighter and a firecracker, and it had not surprised him. She had punched him in the face, he'd seen it coming and had been ready, and fuck that was hot. There was more to her that he wanted to know but she didn't talk much from what he knew of her. And she had barely said a thing to him all night, by his estimation, much less than anyone before her. But she was thinking, he knew.

That made him want to talk to her, and fuck her all night long, a woman he couldn't easily manipulate was a first, but he wasn't done trying yet.

He had to keep a close eye on her though; she would gut him in an instant if she got the chance.

What a fucking turn on that was.

"I don't care." She sighed, "And for the record, it's rape you goddam fucking prick."

"Is it?" He asked in a way that told her he was judging her, because of her reactions to him, "Is it really? Cause you were pretty loud when you came, don't seem like that was forced."

He was judging her?

Remy knew better than to engage in this conversation further but his words seeped into her brain, took hold deep down, where they would stay forever. Was it really? You liked it? That means you wanted it. You came while he was raping you. You liked it.

She was pulled from those horrible thoughts as he continued to ramble, justifying his actions, dismissing the truth because it didn't serve him.

But you liked it.

"That first night at the bar when you blew me off like a bitch." He snarled and palmed the front of his jeans, "Pissed me the fuck off, and made my cock hard as a rock."

"Fuck off," She snapped, and he grinned at that, she was talking now, hell yeah.

"Makin me hard now," He looked down, "See what you do to me," He leaned forward and met her eyes, blue on green, "Want some more?"

Remy blew out a breath and tried to keep herself together, but he continued his incessant rambling, it was three am, she was exhausted and hurting in more ways than one. But he had to play games with her, it was what he did, and she was realizing that with every passing minute.

"Couldn't wait to get my face between those legs, been dreaming about it for weeks," He groaned and made the universal jerk-off hand motion,"You're better than I imagined."

Remy shook her head, he was doing it on purpose and she was not letting him rattle her. He wanted her anger, he'd already taken her body, and her mind; she wanted something left to be hers alone.

"You are a wet dream." He licked his lips obscenely.

Still, she wouldn't move, she stared ahead, not at him, behind him. Mac didn't like being ignored.

"Oh, forgot to tell ya, I've got Hep C; from a tattoo, not a needle, I don't do heroin," And it seemed he wanted her to believe that, like she cared at all about him lying; because sure as she was sitting there, he was lying, the track marks on his arms and sores all over his chest told the truth, when he didn't or couldn't, "Between the blood and the fucking, you'll get it for sure, but they got pills for that now, although it stays around like a bad penny, like old luggage."

Still, Remy said nothing so he looked at the tattoos she had on her chest and arms, words, they were almost all words. His eyes were drawn to her chest piece, big flowing letters and butterflies flew towards her collar bones. On each of her arms, she had song lyrics on her inner forearms and he knew the bands, Disturbed, Nine Inch Nails, Pearl Jam; but the chest piece was stunning.

"What's that mean nolite te bastardes carborundorum?" He pronounced it correctly, and she rolled her eyes, a man like him could read Latin? He was intelligent and he hid it well like a dark secret, but he had shown it to her, "It doesn't translate correctly."

He was right. It was latin but not a phrase that anyone would say in conversation.

"Don't let the bastards grind you down, it's From The Handmaid's Tale, have you read it?"

He shook his head.

"You'd like it," She said dryly and then was quiet, "It's your kind of book."

"You were married?"

"Still am," She replied wrily.

"He beat you?"

"Yes," Why did he care, why did he keep talking?

"That why you came here?"

"Yes, nowhere else to go."

"This place is a dead end for a lot of us," He said softly, "You should have stayed away."

"I know," She whispered in the darkness, his last statement was the truth, probably the only truth she would ever hear from his lips.

"You should have never come back here Remy," He said again.

Remy just looked away, but he pulled her face to look at him; he had gotten to her finally, and the flash in his blue eyes, that on another man could make her fall in love had told her that he knew it; just one more push, he smiled, "I don't have AIDS, that I know of..." He brought his arm up to show her his bicep tattoo, "Check out this ink..."

Remy was on her feet and charged at him, barreling straight into his chest and they toppled off the chair onto the floor. He'd been expecting that, had baited her to it, wanted it. She landed on top of him and rained hellfire rage into his face and chest, she was crazy. She was manic, her hands were all over the place, with her hair flying all around her face, and she was so beautiful to him like that.

That's what he wanted, the reaction, the fire, the explosion; he had known she'd be a fireball, hot as the sun, something that might burn him. That was the point; every time she threatened to kill him those words made his dick ache.

"That's it Remy, fight. Fight me." He let her slap him around a bit because it was hot, then, he grabbed her by the wrists as if he could snap them in two. He was so strong, and he was wearing her down, he had been rubbing Meth on his gums from Sylvia's stash in the cookie jar all night, taking X. He was wide awake and easily pinned her arms behind her back, then shoved his cock against her, "I fuckin love it!"

Remy sat up on top of him, this fight was futile, she was tired and he was wired; so she did the only thing she could think to do, she spit in his face. That pissed him off and not much had that night; it wasn't her body fluids that offended him, clearly, but the implication spitting on someone held, what it meant.

"That wasn't smart Remy, " He glared at her as he wiped the blood and spit off his face with his hand, tasted it of course, "Gonna have to tie your hands again."

Mac pulled the t-shirt she wore up, flipped her over onto her stomach before she knew what happened and pulled her hips back against him. He'd told her she would need stamina, now she was going to find out because he was insatiable, he knew that from the jump. He wanted all of her, every bit until there was nothing left. He was going to take it all.

He pulled her hair back hard, making her back arch and she screamed in pain, in pleasure, as he entered her again. That was the paradox of her whole fucking life, there was never much pleasure and when there was, pain followed close behind.

You liked it.

Her knees scraped against the shitty linoleum of the kitchen floor, but the pain wasn't in her knees, it was everywhere he touched her; the touches that felt so good that it had made her weep big fat tears, and the ones that hurt.

Somehow they had all become the same.

The pain was in her mind now too, she had fought to keep her mind all night, but the agony was permeating her entire being as she checked out of her body, letting her mind wander far away. Everything hurt, throbbed, she was bleeding and bruised, her hands hurt from punching him, her head hurt from the beatings; she was done. She thought about Jenny; she would never see her again, she thought about her parents, who would never know what had happened to her, but maybe that was better.

She was going to die in the town she was born in, it was appropriate somehow.


	7. Giulty

Behind closed doors your words ring hollow  
What you said they'd be  
What behavior? Who are you, but I like it  
Now I'm done with nothing new, sometimes green sometimes blue  
And I'm guilty, and I'm guilty, and I'm guilty, and I'm guilty  
And you're guilty too  
Hey Hey Hey I'm guilty and you're guilty too  
Hey Hey Hey Hey  
I'll tell you something, something new  
You're hearing nothing, nothing true  
You're killing me, I'm killing you  
And I'm guilty too."

Guilty by Gravity Kills

Sometime around six am Mac hoisted her over his shoulder from where she lay crumpled on the floor and she was dead weight. She was light in his arms, but she didn't move at all either; he'd used her up, as planned, thrown her around the house like a rag doll and taken his licks in the process. She had put up a hellovafight, all night long and they had equally beat the shit out of each other, she was the best he ever had. But he had won, he always won.

Remy's eyes rolled back in her head as he carried her upside down through the house, she could see furniture passing by in a grotesque parody, and it confused her; she became aware finally that he was carrying her and her hands were zip tied again. The sun was starting to rise, and with it, terror. Somewhere from deep inside of her the fear bubbled up to the top of her mind, making her alert again, and she knew what he meant to do.

It was early morning and Sylvia would be home soon, it was over, finally. He had the mask on again, because now he was taking her out to drown her in the pool, she knew that. She almost welcomed it, merciful death, an end to everything, all the pain of her entire life, it would be over soon. But as they passed through the kitchen, instinct took over, the will to live. One last stand.

"Come on down and meet your maker come on down and make a stand." Some words to a song from long ago rang through her ears, and they floated through her mind now, taking hold like an anthem.

It was time for one last stand before she met her maker, or the devil, whoever had jurisdiction over her soul. She believed the devil walked this earth anyway, he was with her now, so even mindless oblivion would be welcome. Heaven or hell? Weren't they both here on earth? She'd been to both, in her twenty five years, after there was just nothing; Remy was not a believer in anything, not even herself.

The human spirit would fight till the end it seemed, no matter how futile it might be, and Remy's eyes fell on the ice bucket; he had forgotten and she silently grabbed the ice pick as they passed by the counter.

/

He set her down on her feet at the side of the pool where this whole fucked up night had begun and he looked almost sorry about it. But Remy thought he was just sorry to lose his punching bag and fuck toy for the night. He had spent almost twelve hours with her, and it was a great twelve hours, he told her as much, "I hate to do this Remy, I really do..."

But this was who he was, who he had always been.

Remy listened carefully,keeping the ice pick close to her arm out of his sight as she wobbled unsteadily on weak legs. She should have never come back here, he was right about that and if she lived, she never would, if she lived. She felt weak but strong at the same time, there was a surge of energy that she was hiding from him, and the cool air blew across her skin as he continued his monologue.

"Sylvia will come home and find you floating, and I'll be in the wind. The trace evidence will wash off and maybe the cops will come talk to me, but just as likely not."

Remy said nothing, he was so sure of himself, as if he'd done this many times. Clearly he had and she knew he would do it again and again, with no consequenses and that enraged her more than what he had done to her. He had done this to other women, how many?

Mac was so entranced with the sound of his own voice that this time he didnt see it coming, as he reached in his pocket for more zip ties for her feet she plowed into him ice pick first and got him twice in the stomach before he knew what happened.

He hadn't even had time to say anything, a first. Then he was screaming, "Ahhh, you fucking cunt!"

They toppled into the pool, in a mass of arms and legs again like before, but this time she was on her feet fast and on his back, plunging the pick into his back over and over and over again, until he didnt move at all.

She grabbed the knife from his belt and cut the zip tie around her hands, dropped it and the ice pick and they sank to the bottom of the pool. She was almost paralized with fear but he didnt move and finally Remy hauled herself out of the pool before he came after her.

/

Faster than she had ever run before Remy burst through the back door, running on pure adrenalin now, grabbed the keys, her purse and ran straight out the front door. The wind blew through each door like a vacuum, and she didn't stop, wouldn't. When she got to the sidewalk she looked back convinced he'd be right behind her, soaking wet and raging. But he wasn't. The night was silent and dark, but getting lighter by the minute.

Her bare feet skittered on the gravel at the car and Remy almost fell down, -Oh God she had to get out of there-, she threw the door open, glancing back, still no Mac. Along the way Remy had dropped her cellphone in the driveway and was too afraid to stop for it, if he was behind her and caught her, she was dead. She was in the car in an instant, firing it up and peeling out of of there like her ass was on fire with no thought of where to go, just to put miles and miles between her, and him.

Remy drove on as the sun came up full in the sky she shook with relief and disbelief that she had gotten away. She fetched her cigarettes from the glove box, lit one with shakey hands and inhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel, repeating two words to herself over and over like a mantra, "You're ok, you're ok, your'e ok." There was no relief with that; she needed her music, it was daylight now and she was fierce, even if she didnt feel that way at the moment.

When she had gone twenty miles according to her estimation Remy pulled over, kicking red desert dust up all around the car. Grabbed the first CD out of the trunk she could and got back in the car fast. He couldn't be around, she was miles away from him now and he'd drowned for sure. But still, she shook in fear, trembled. With fumbling hands she opened the glove box and pulled out her smokes, lit another one and inhaled deeply. The words to "Guilty" by Gravity Kills blew through the speaker as she put miles and miles between her and that house.

And I'm guilty, and I'm guilty, and I'm guilty, and I'm guilty  
And you're guilty too  
Hey Hey Hey I'm guilty and you're guilty too  
Hey Hey Hey Hey

Remy stopped at a truck stop after she had driven 100 miles, that seemed like a safe distance, she ate because now she was starving, bought some clothes and showered. She put the coins in the box and slipped under the spray of water, letting it flow over her, trying not to think of her last shower, just a few hours ago.

As she watched all the evidence of what he did to her circle the drain, she breathed out a prayer of thanksgiving that she had gotten away. It had been close, so close. "Rebel Yell" played in the truck stop, piped in through the entire place, even the shower, but she wasn't in the mood for music right now. She needed to get clean and she scrubbed herself until her skin was cherry red, and still she could feel him, would she always? Feel him?

"In the midnight hour she cried more more more, with a rebel yell, more more more."

Remy looked at her reflection in the mirror, across from the shower; she was still there, she had made it, she rose her head up under the spray again and washed the rest of him off of her.

Later, after she had taken a twenty minute shower, yet still felt so dirty she looked back at herself in the mirror as she dried her hair; and the battered girl there was accusing; you liked it.

She never told a soul what happened, not even Jenny.


	8. The Light

When you think all is forsaken, listen to me now,  
Alls not forsaken, you need never feel broken again.  
Sometimes darkness can show you the light.  
The Light by Disturbed

Speeding east she chainsmoked and shivered, trembled and shook Remy was unable to calm down completely. She listened to "Blackbird" by The Beatles way too much and made the decision she had been avoiding. If she had gone there first...but she didn't. Now she really had no choice.

The prodigal daughter was going home again, after almost eight years of estrangement. Home was where they had to take you in no matter what, that was how the saying went right? They wouldn't shut the door on her would they? No, her father wouldn't.

As the miles passed and she traveled west to east, she vowed to get her shit together somehow, be a good example for Jenny and not someone that existed on the fringes of her life anymore.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly."

When she showed up at her parents house three days later, after stopping in a motel to sleep one night, only to have nightmares all night long, with a healing black eye and a fresh one, all cut up and bruised her father had begun to cry. He took her in his arms and for the first time since she left that monster floating in the pool to die she cried too.

She had cleaned herself up as best she could, but she must have looked awful still, there was only so much a shower and a little make up could do anyway. It was what it was.

Remy didn't know if her father was crying because she looked so beat up, or was he glad to see her, but she found that she didnt care, didn't care about so many things now. From behind him Jenny stood on the stairs sobbing, and her mother, and that just made Remy cry more.

Her father, who had always been in her side had taken one look at her and disolved, sobbed, huge wracking sobs and Remy was undone by the love raidiating from him, he loved her. It was almost too much to bear. Then he wrapped her in his arms and said, "Welcome home sweetheart, we missed you."

/

Her room was still there waiting for her, just the way she had left it right next to Jenny's and soon she fell into a routine. After she had healed physically Remy got a job at the local wall mart, just something to pass the time as she figured out her next move. She thought about going to college with Jenny, they made plans together.

Jenny had been small when Temy left and now she was almost all gwon up, so much time wasted; but she was there now. It wasn't too late, she had lived and she wasn't going to squander her good fortune again.

She bought clothes, and a new phone, but she was healing mentally at a slower pace.

Remy made peace with her mother, they had some sort of unspoken understanding now, now that she was an adult, and not running off to get married at seventeen. She had grown up it seemed and her mother knew that. She allowed her mother to be a mother, to help her now. Finally, Beverly wanted to help her, and she didnt feel so out in the cold anymore.

Something had changed. It wasn't perfect but they were trying.

Remy knew that they had seen her at her worst, knowing somehow that she had barely made it home to them. That five more minutes either way would have changed her fate, somehow they knew it had been a close call.

It was ok.

She tried not to think of it, of him or what happened too much, only when she had to and she worked hard at closing the book on that horrifying chapter in her life. It was over, dead and buried, like he was, if God was good. She didn't call Sylvia and Sylvia didn't call her, and that was fine, but disturbing. Sylvia had known, she had some idea what he meant to do, Remy was sure of it. Sylvia had been her friend she thought, but she hadn't warned her about him, and that made her complicit in what had happened.

But she had to let that go, she would go crazy if she didnt.

She spent a lot of time listening to music on her Ipod, gone were the days when she would turn up her music to be annoying, her earbuds did her just fine, and all her music; specifically, "The Light", by Disturbed.

"It's not a blight, but a remedy."

The only reminder was on her right inner thigh, he had carved MAC there, his name, to mark her forever as his, then sucked her blood like a vampire. Three weeks after she got home she had gone to her old friend from high school's tattoo joint, a la Lisbeth Salander, and had him ink over the cut name to make it permenent and add a knife and ice pick next to it. Now it was with her forever, his name on her thigh, like Lisbeth's rape chain around her ankle; although she could never wear a bikini again or shorts, it needed to be there as a reminder that she had lived through this.

"An unforgivable tragedy, the answer isn't where you'd think you'd find it.  
Prepare yourself for a reckoning, for when your wold seems to crumble again.  
Don't be afraid, don't turn away.  
You're the one who can redefine it, don't let hope become a memory."

She spent a lot of time in the backyard on her days off, listening to music and laying in the sun, reading. She had started to meditate and do yoga at the advise of her therapist. She drank herbal tea; but peace was not her friend...yet, but it was coming. In therapy, she accepted that she had been a victim, and hadn't consented to anything that had happened to her. Despite what her body did, or her reaction or feelings about him, he had assaulted her, drugged her and finally she accepted that. It had not been her fault, and she had not wanted it. It wasn't her fault, never had been.

But that had taken months to process through; peace would come one day.

Outside on the deck on warm days, Remy read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, again, twice. She had a kinship with Lisbeth Salander now. Years ago when she first read the book, about among other things, a woman who gets revenge on her rapist, she'd had no idea what the book would one day mean to her life, and it was always her favorite. Even before.

Now she related to Lisbeth on a whole new level, and she sometimes felt bad ass like her, on good days. They were similar in size, small framed women, living on the friges of society, and they both dyed their red hair black. Now, she had something else in common with the fictional character she loved, she didn't want to but it had happened.

Remy was in treatment for Hepetitis C, he had given it to her, like a creul parting gift, but so far she was HIV negative. Thank God for small favors, right? Yes, you're damn well right and she hadn't been pregnant, thank Christ. Thinking about that made chills break out all over her skin even months later, thank Christ.

Hep C wouldn't kill her right away at least, and that was something to be grateful for. Maybe they would find a cure in her lifetime, there was always hope.

She stopped dying her hair and soon it was her natural red again, she liked it for now. She was starting to like who she was becoming, and sitting in the room she once felt was a prison made her feel free.

Ten months later

Summer was coming again, and she actually looked forward to it, she looked forward to a lot of things now, she had been changed by what she went through, and it had been a good change, from something so horrible.

She and Jenny were eating pizza that night; she would always remember it, pepperoni and peppers, their favorite and pepsi cola from Portofino's, the best place in town. It had been just like any other night from their childhood, or the months that she was home now. Family time was something not to be wasted now, life was precarious, especially for some people.

It was just an ordinary night, they had planned to watch movies and be silly together; they had missed out on so much and were rarely apart now. They chatted together about Jenny being accepted to college and Remy was thinking more and more about going to school.

As she shoved her second piece of deliciousness into her mouth the phone rang on the table beside her, she looked over at it and it said Utah...but...she hadn't called Sylvia at all since that night months ago. Were the police looking for her now? For murder? She snatched the phone up and took a deep breath, they could come arrest her in South Carolina, she was never going back there again.

"Sylvia?" She hissed.

There was a pause, and then the voice that had been haunting her for months was there, the voice of her nightmares; she knew that timbre anywhere. Shocked, she held the phone to her ear and listened to the reason she woke up in terror, still unable to stop screaming. The reason she was now in therapy and likely would be for a long time, the reason she suffered from PTSD and vomited if she heard the song, that song, that he sang to her, "You Belong to Me".

Her Mom still liked that old music and she hadn't told them what happened in Luna Mesa, she hadn't even told them she was there.

As far as they knew this was all because of Billy, so the old music still played and she died a little bit every time. It hurt her deep into her soul, but she had been afraid to tell.

How had he found her? How the fuck had he not bled to death?Drowned?

"No," No, no, no, no ; you're supposed to be dead!

"Been thinkin of you Remy..." He crooned into the phone, "Been thinkin of you a lot."

She was underwater, struggling to breathe, unable to reach the surface all over again and that song, -oh god-, she could hear it now in her ears, hear his voice saying the words to her, "You belong to me." She could feel his hands all over her again, his touch along her skin. Her heart sped up in her chest behind the tattoo he had admired; it was going to busrt out of her chest from fear.

Jenny held her pizza and watched the transformation come over her sister, it frightened her and she sat rooted to her seat at the table as Remy decompressed before her eyes. Remy was breathing hard, almost like an athsma attack and Jenny didn't know what to do.

"Found your cell phone in Sylvia's driveway a while back," He whispered into the phone, into her ear in that menacing hot way he always did, "Jerked off to most of your Instagram pictures already, got to love social media."

She couldn't speak.

"Your hair is red again, I approve." He was Hannibal Lechter calling Clarice Starling in the most horrific way.

She had changed it all, put a fake address on Facebook, unlisted phone number...how had he...

"Forgot you had a sister..." He continued and right in front of her Jenny watched Remy's face go white, as if she had seen a ghost, she had.

She gulped in a breath, he was on top of her again in her mind, touching her, making her feel things she didnt want to feel. It felt so real, the room spun, and she looked down at her feet, unable to shake the vertigo; she was sick to her stomach. If he touched Jenny she would rip him apart with her bare hands.

"Don't you talk about her," She cried into the phone and she could see him smiling in her head, that devils smile, "Don't you fucking ever...I'll kill you, motherfucker. I'll fucking kill you, do you hear me? I. Will. Fucking. Kill. You!"

Mac did smile on the other side of the phone, Remy always made him smile, and his dick ache, throb; just the thought of her. She was still full of fire, maybe more so now, he loved that fire. I. Will. Fucking. Kill. You.

"Been there done that haven't we Remy.", He answered.

What had Shakespeare said? "Though she be little. She is fierce." It was A Midsummer's Night Dream wasn't it? Yes and wasnt that just what she was, his Midsummer's Night dream that still walked the earth.

In a gadda da vida baby, don't you know that I'm lovin you.

"She's hot, not as hot as you, but she looks like a younger version of you, sweet as sugar." He paused, "Be seeing you Remy, don't let the bastards grind you down ." He whispered and then she threw the phone against the wall.

You liked it.

The End.


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